


Unmasked

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: During Canon, Intercrural Sex, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Treat, experience gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-10 10:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: Chris asks Otabek to dinner, or something, after his Bronze at Worlds. Otabek picks 'or something.'





	Unmasked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nagoyadelay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagoyadelay/gifts).



> This takes place just after Worlds in Episode 1, so Otabek's 17 here.

"Nice work, Altin," Christophe Giacometti said, as they were coming off the podium. Victor Nikiforov had been polite, but a thousand miles away. Chris, in contrast, had an affectionate hand on Otabek's arm. "I'm going to have to watch out next season."

"Thanks," he said. "You skated really well."

"Never well enough," Chris said wryly. Victor was already out the door, half-listening to his coach.

"He can't last forever," Otabek said.

"He has so far. Besides, I always dreamed I'd--you know. Beat him _before_ he started breaking down. I'm an old man compared to you."

Otabek just shook his head.

"You want to grab dinner or something? Not much to do before the exhibition."

Most of the other skaters had their own teammates to hang out with, and he didn't like being a third (or fourth, or fifth) wheel. And...'dinner or something.' Did that mean sex?

Could it mean sex?

Chris's smile was nice and his body was _very_ nice, and Otabek wasn't a virgin, but he wouldn't mind getting a little more experience with someone who knew what he was doing. "Sure," he said. "Should we meet in your room or something?"

"I'm sharing with Josef," Chris said. "Maybe yours?"

"Sure," he said.

 

They got delivery, and sat on the spare bed to eat. By mutual agreement, they avoided the sports highlights and landed on a silly game show, some kind of sports-adjacent competition with rules neither of them could quite figure out. Chris's thigh pressed against Otabek's, and Otabek pressed back, just a little, liking the heat, the sense of possibility there.

They finished the food and the show ended, and Chris picked up the remote and turned off the TV. "So," he said. "I broke up with someone a little while ago and I'm not...ready for something serious again. Not yet. But if you want something that's not serious tonight...?"

"Yeah," Otabek said. "That sounds good." He put his hand on Chris's thigh. "Do you want--"

"I don't have any condoms, darling, so unless you came prepared that limits our choices." He smiled, wicked. "But not by that much." He pulled Otabek into his lap, and he wasn't small, and he was already half-hard, and that felt pretty good. "I appreciate your taking the time for an old man like me."

Otabek laughed, and Chris's lips were dry but not too dry, and he kissed like he hadn't kissed anyone in forever, enthusiastic, greedy. His hands spread over Otabek's back, pulling at his shirt, and Chris's hair was soft under all the gel, despite the gallons of bleach that he must have been using.

"You always look this good after pushing yourself that hard, Altin?"

Otabek shook his head. "Only when I win."

"You should win more often," Chris said, heated, and slid his hands over Otabek's ass, pulling him closer. "You can be my silver medalist next year."

"Maybe I'll go straight to gold," he said, grinding down and noticing Chris's widening eyes with satisfaction. "You can be _my_ silver medalist."

"I do like a man with spirit," Chris said, and licked his lips. Otabek kissed him again, and this time Chris slid his hands underneath Otabek's shirt, eager for skin. "What do you like?"

"Depends," Otabek said. Chris was already starting to stubble, his chin rough, and Otabek thought of what that stubble would feel like against his thighs, but his hands were big, too, and..."I like a lot of things, I guess."

Chris pulled Otabek's shirt over his head, and then looked at him, serious, his big blue eyes no longer teasing. "You're going to have to be more specific. Come on. Top? Bottom?" He watched Otabek's face. "Okay. Bottom."

Otabek opened his mouth to protest, but there really wasn't anything to protest.

"Want to ride me?"

"No condoms," Otabek said.

"I told you," Chris said, kissing Otabek open-mouthed and gentle. "That doesn't limit our choices _that_ much." He stroked Otabek's back, kissed him softly, alternating between his cheek and mouth, pulling his own t-shirt off. "I can get very creative."

"Okay," Otabek said. "Show me."

"I was waiting for you to ask, darling." Chris winked, and started working on Otabek's fly. His fingers were lean and his touch teasing, light. Otabek had to hold himself back from thrusting up into Chris's hand. "Now let's get the rest of this off."

Otabek wanted to stay in Chris's lap and let Chris peel his jeans off, but that was impossible, so he got off the bed and peeled his jeans and briefs off while Chris did the same. Chris wasn't cut, and his cock was fully erect now, deep red, curved a little to the left. _He must wax,_ Otabek thought, and remembered that some guys said it made their dicks look bigger. Chris's didn't look _small._

"You've got lube somewhere?" Chris asked, and Otabek grabbed the hand lotion from the nightstand and passed it over.

"Close enough. Come here, darling," Chris said, and opened his arms, and Otabek sank back into his embrace. Chris's chest was smooth too, and it felt a little strange, but not bad, as Otabek teased a nipple with his fingers. "Mmmm, yes--that's--that's good. Don't stop--"

"No," Otabek said, and kissed him again, because that was good too.

"Let's get you in place. This is one of the times I don't regret waxing for the season--" Chris slid back on the bed, half-reclined, with the pillows at his back. "Now you straddle me again..." He put his hands on Otabek's hips, guiding him in place, Otabek's cock positioned between his thighs. It was awkward, but it felt like it would work. 

He'd opened the lotion when Otabek had been distracted with--well, something--and he stroked Otabek wet, his hand steady, even as Otabek was starting to feel uncertain.

"Good?"

Otabek nodded.

"Good." Chris guided Otabek's cock between the tight press of his thighs, and Otabek couldn't do anything but _move,_ thrust, riding Chris's thighs. Chris steadied him with his hands for the first thrusts, then moved his hands to Otabek's ass, his fingers still slick with lotion. That worked. That _worked--_

Otabek gasped, a little, when Chris's fingertip started pressing in, but then he understood, spread his thighs more, and he had to stop for a second to get used to the pressure, let the burn shift from pain to pleasure. It was harder to keep his balance, but Chris’s free hand was still on his ass, steadying him.

"You have to tell me," Chris said, and he was a little out of breath at this point. _Good._

"It's good," Otabek said. "You--you can keep going. Don't--don't stop unless I say so."

"Okay," Chris said, and leaned forward a little, pressing his thighs even tighter together. "Don't you stop either."

He didn't, not when Chris slid the second finger in or when Chris found his prostate and his body lit up in a thousand places. He cursed a little into Chris's shoulder, but he kept going, even as a tiny bit of his mind wondered what Chris was getting out of all this.

When he came, shuddering, sensation rocking through him, he felt Chris grunt against his shoulder. "That's good," he said, "just--"

Chris guided Otabek's hand to his cock, and Otabek still wasn't used to the novelty of foreskin, how soft it was, how slick Chris's cock was underneath. They kissed as Otabek stroked him, as Chris spilled over Otabek's fingers, moaning down in his throat.

"Thanks," Otabek said, which felt kind of silly, but he couldn't think of anything better to say.

"The pleasure was mine," Chris said, pushing Otabek's hair out of his face. "Like I said. I've...it's nice to have something without any strings, for a night. Can I stay a little while?"

"Of course," Otabek said.

"I'll have to get back to Josef eventually," he said, "but you’re good company." He shifted a little. "We should probably clean up a bit."

It didn't take long, and they settled together on the mattress, Chris's broad arm around his shoulder, Otabek's head pillowed on Chris's chest. "Not too long," he said. "We still have to skate tomorrow."

"So responsible at your age," Chris said, and pressed a kiss into his hair. "I'm just glad I got to see what you've been hiding."

Otabek frowned. "What do you mean?"

Chris squeezed his shoulder. "Victor has the Ice Prince, and I have the flirting. You--you're the serious one, polite, keeping that respectful distance. Don't get me wrong, I understand. You don't have a legacy to build on. You're going to be the legacy. You have to be careful. But I'm glad I got to see who you are underneath."

"I don't mean to be--"

"It's fine," he said. "You're who you are. Don't be anybody else."

Otabek closed his eyes. "What about you?"

"It's who I am," he said, his fingers trailing affectionately in Otabek's hair. "Just not all of who I am."

"I'm glad I got to see more, then."

Chris kissed the top of his head. "Me too, _cheri._ Me too.”


End file.
